


Stronger than Hate

by logoki



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Abuse, Drugs, F/M, I realize how absurd it sounds, M/M, Neverland, Pillaging, Psychopath, Science, Slow Burn, Steampunk, Victorian England, Violence, bi captain hook, bi peter pan, just bare with me here, psychopath peter pan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26480623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logoki/pseuds/logoki
Summary: When Wendy Darling meets the mysterious Peter, she's immediately enamored. So much so that when he offers her a mysterious drink, she doesn't hesitate to partake. But when she wakes up, she's in a world entirely foreign to her, much to her dismay. However, it's here where she meets the true hero of her story. Here, she meets Captain James Hook.
Relationships: James Hook/Peter Pan, Wendy Darling/James Hook, Wendy Darling/Peter Pan (Peter Pan)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Stronger than Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys it's me with another fanfiction lmao. This time it's Peter Pan, idk, I've had this idea for several years and am just now doing something with it. Hope you enjoy. Also, several things have been changed, such as the ages and order of birth of the Darling kids. That is all.

The day was grey and the clouds hung low over London as Wendy looked out of her window over the sea of buildings before her. Plumes of smoke arose from various pipes and chimneys that littered the city, adding to the dismal trance the atmosphere held. Wendy sighed delicately, blowing away at the stray strands of hair that had fallen out from her sloppy updo. Her needlework lied forgotten and gathering dust on the floor underneath her powder table. It hadn’t been touched in at least a year. 

Wendy had always been a rather bizarre girl, preferring the works of science to those of fantasy or romance. She would gather and collect bones and dead insects to study, snipping grafts from her mother’s garden as well. As she grew older, her odd behavior cultivated itself into something obvious and unabashed, much to the chagrin of her parents and eldest brother, John. 

As she and her strange tastes grew, so did her beauty, which caused the problem of a plethora of suitors that would ambush Mr. Darling at all hours of the day. Desperate to keep the shame of their daughter’s distasteful peculiarities a secret, the Darlings refused any person outside of the family in to see her. They kept her locked away in the upstairs, left to read all the books she could. 

Wendy didn’t mind the time to herself. In fact, she rather enjoyed it. She was never one to get along with the general public to begin with, so she saw this forced solitude as more of a safety precaution for herself than anything else. 

The only person that was unabashed and zealous of their love for Wendy was the middle child of the Darling family, Michael. Michael was a student at the Bramsbury Institute of Science, and loved nothing more than to see his sister. She knew things about the sciences he was studying that he was sure even his professors were ignorant of. It infuriated him that she couldn’t attend purely because of her sex. Wendy was the smartest person he knew. 

Michael was the only person Mr. and Mrs. Darling would allow Wendy to go on outings with. The pair would visit museums, parks and occasionally Michael’s university. Wendy thought about Michael as she stared out of the window on that grey, chilly day. 

She wished he would hurry up at arrive. The anticipation of his visit had been mounting since she’d received his letter several days ago, detailing that he’d come to see her. Normally Wendy was fine with being alone, but she had to admit that when Michael was there, everything seemed happier somehow. Especially when they went on their outings. Wendy adored traveling around London with her older brother, seeing all that there was to see. The museum was her favorite, detailing the skeletal remains of dinosaurs, fossils, artifacts and archaeological findings. It fascinated her beyond imagination.   
When she found herself bored, which happened more frequently than not, Wendy would daydream about travelling all over the world and discovering ancient ruins or treasures more grand than mankind had ever known. But the reality of her situation was that she didn’t have the freedom to even leave the house in which she lived as she pleased. 

A knock on her door awoke her from her thoughts, and she turned to see Michael entering into her sanctuary. A broad grin stretched across her face as her pale grey eyes lit up. 

“Michael,” she breathed as she got up and gave her brother a hearty, tight hug, “Thank you for visiting me.” 

Michael laughed breezily in return, hugging her back, “Of course, Wendy. Why wouldn’t I visit my favorite sister?” 

“Hoo, has John taken the back seat as your favorite sister all of a sudden? Why my dear brother, you ought not to offend her so!” Wendy laughed at her own joke, mirth overcoming the gloom of London. Michael just shook his head, a good-natured smile on his face. 

“And you ought not to joke about matters involving your eldest brother. If he ever heard you, you’d likely never be allowed to leave again, even if it was with me.” 

Wendy puffed out her cheeks in a childish manner, which didn’t make her look any less beautiful than she already was. “Oh he wouldn’t know a joke if it bit him on the arse,” she remarked loudly, tromping over to where her coat rested on her bedframe. She put it on with graceful ease and buttoned it up, all whilst Michael watched with a playful look in his eyes. 

“I was thinking we’d pay a visit to my university today. There’s someone I’d like for you to meet.” He offered her his arm, which she took, and the pair exited the room and descended the staircase, aiming for the front door. 

“Oh please tell me you haven’t joined mother and father in their wild ambitions of finding me a husband,” Wendy huffed, wincing from the bite of the cold London air as they walked down the street, toward the carriage Michael had arrived in. They got into the plush carriage and, once situated, Michael rapped his knuckles against the side, signaling the driver to embark. 

“Not at all, dear sister. I’m merely eager to introduce you into the world of the scholars. Knowing the right people will get you far in life, I’ll have you know.” The carriage bumped along the cobblestone roads of the city, jolting Wendy around. She looked out the window at the people passing by, on their way to wherever it was they were going. She often found herself wondering about things that did not concern her. But Wendy couldn’t help that she had an affinity for meddling in the lives of others, even if she never took any action in it. 

“Yes, but knowing them comes at a cost,” she murmured, earning a quizzical look from her brother. 

“The cost of human interaction,” Wendy continued. Michael laughed a hearty laugh before responding.

“Wendy, one of these days you’ll cease your misanthropic tendencies, much to the joy of every available young bachelor in London.”

“Yes, much to the joy of father too, which is something I just cannot allow.” 

The rest of the journey continued with the pair of siblings talking about what Michael had learned recently whilst taking his classes. He was mainly studying the human condition, and it was during one of these such lectures that he met the man that he so desperately wanted to introduce to Wendy. 

“He’s not like other men,” Michael stated, “He’s not like other people at all in fact. There’s just something odd about him. Something I concur you’d find simply fascinating.” 

“My, my, from the way you talk about him I’d assume you were in love with the man, Michael,” Wendy teased, resting her chin delicately on her hand as she gazed out the window. Michael laughed quietly.

“No, not at all. I merely find him intriguing in the way scientists find their subjects.”

“So you mean to dissect him then?”

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose,” Michael responded, fidgeting with his top hat in his hands, “I want to know what makes him tick. In the head. Like I’ve said Wendy, he’s not a normal fellow.”

“Oh I should hope not. Tell me, does he know I am to meet with him today?”

Michael scratched at his chin, where the beginnings of stubble were growing. “Yes, he does. I’ve told him all about you in fact, and it was he who proposed the meeting in the first place.” Wendy gave him a pointed look at that, causing him to raise his hands in surrender. 

“I promise you this is not some kind of romantical setup Wendy. I’m not John, or father, or even mother for that matter.” Wendy rolled her eyes, desperately hoping that what he said was true. She didn’t need any more hopeless suitors. She didn’t want any more hopeless suitors. All she could do was wish that the appointment wouldn’t be a bore. 

With that thought fresh on her mind, the carriage came to a halt, and the pair exited. No matter how many times Wendy saw Bramsbury Institute, she was always secretly in awe of it. It was a grand building, with domes and columns of marble. She and Michael hurried inside and out of the bitter cold. 

The interior was just as formidable as the exterior, with large open spaces and halls, grand staircases and chandeliers. This was an expensive university, and Wendy adored it. It was then that she heard someone call out her brother’s name. 

“Michael!” the sound rang out in the building like a lie in a church. Michael turned to see the man of the hour approaching them. Wendy turned too, indifference soaking her visage. But then she saw him, really saw him. He was gorgeous. His skin was smooth and tanned, a rare sight in London, and his hair was a bright shock of copper red. Freckles adorned his nose and cheeks like decoration, and his eyes were the brightest, richest green she’d ever seen. 

“Wendy,” Michael said, a somewhat smug smile on his face as he spoke, “I’d like to introduce you to Peter.”


End file.
